Hm. That's definitely not a title the Imperial Army uses, but this woman says it like it means something.

"A Sentinel, huh?" Emery chuckles. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that particular rank- as you might have guessed, I'm not really the military type.

"In fact, who I am?" And here, Emery gestures theatrically at himself. "I'm afraid I'm just another well-born brat from the isles above looking to enjoy some of Elysium's flowers."

And he wonders if this particular flower he's run into is a crimson variety. But what are the odds of that?